the twelve days of christmas
by McMuffin
Summary: Every year, Mark gives Addison a twelve days of Christmas themed present. Spans med school to season 2. Mentions of Addison/Derek.


**Note: finally x-posting this from livejournal, I wrote this for a secret santa about six months ago.  
Warning: Crossdressing kink in part 12.**

* * *

**(i) a partridge in a pear tree.**

Balancing a mug of hot cocoa on top of the stack of books in her arms, Addison pushes the ajar door to her boyfriend's apartment open with her foot. Snow still sticks to the bottom of her boots, her breath crystallises as it meets the foyer's air. She closes the door again sans-hands and is grateful to be out of the bone-chilling cold. Christmas music spills out into the air around her, sound waves crackling and warming her mood.

"Derek?" she calls, teeth chattering, the pile of books wobbling, and she warily eyes the steaming cocoa perched on top, questioning her prior decision.

"He's not - but I am!" Mark Sloan says as he strolls into view, chuckling at the sight of her in an inappropriate-for-snow jacket and high-heeled boots.

"Mark!" she hisses as he simply laughs at her, and she bites her tongue before sniping at him because, despite her dislike for him, she needs his help in not spilling her scalding drink.

"Oh, you require my help?" he jests, stepping closer to her, wondering how long he can string this out before she snaps.

She grinds her teeth together, curses her lack of proper winter coat, the unexpected snow, her late class, Mark Sloan's arrogance, Mark Sloan's smirk, Mark Sloan's existence, and mutters, "Yes."

"Did I hear a please?" Mark Sloan smirks at her in that infuriating way and she's tempted to shove the heavy pile of books at him so the cocoa burns his pretty face - but she doesn't. She purses her lips, stares behind him at the magazine-littered sofa and answers the jerk.

"Please help me."

"Gladly!" he replies, smirking at her as he takes the cocoa from the top of her pile and sips it, still smirking, and she glares.

"That's mine!" she quickly strides over to the nearest clean space - a bit of floor - and deposits her textbooks there before turning back to Mark Sloan, who's calmly drinking all of her cocoa.

"It is? I thought you bought it for me, because you love me so much," he laughs, leering at her as she shrugs off her snow-drenched jacket and grabs one of Derek's sweaters.

"I hate you," she spits. She doesn't really, but when he's standing in the middle of a sloppy apartment drinking the cocoa that she risked hypothermia for, she almost does.

"Aw, and I even got you a present," Mark Sloan says as he strides towards her, past her, and over to the shelves where he pulls out a red-and-green package.

"It's the first of December," Addison says with a frown.

"Yes, but you won't care for any presents on the twenty-fifth because Derek's going to propose, so I figured I'd give you mine now," he smirks, again, holding out the present.

"He's what?" Addison shrieks - not in shock, because it is kind of expected - but in anger because Mark Sloan has spoiled it.

"Oops?" He doesn't even look ashamed.

"You... I... Argh!" she screams, ripping the present from his hand and tearing the wrapping paper off to reveal a green thong with the image of a partridge in a pear tree on it. She flings it in his face, shouting, "You are a disgusting pig!"

Mark Sloan laughs and sings, "On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree," before she scowls and storms into Derek's room. He skulls the last of the hot cocoa, blatantly admiring her ass as she leaves.

**(ii) two turtle doves**

"What's that look for?" Mark asks after seeing a dejected look cross his best friend's face in his peripheral vision.

Derek runs his tongue along his teeth before swallowing and answering. "I just realised this is our first Christmas not living together in years."

"Well you're the asshole who's cheating on me and getting married," Mark chuckles, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of Derek's car.

"I'm serious. You're, like, my brother, man," Derek's voice cracks and Mark laughs louder, from the depths of his lungs.

"Don't turn into a chick on me," he says, smirking at his friend's emotional antics. Derek drank a few too many beers during their brief stop at a bar on W 110th before picking up their Christmas trees.

"I'm not a chick!" Derek whines. "I'm just sad."

"That's not any better," Mark laughs again, turning the corner into their street. "It could be worse, I still live just across the road."

"That's true," Derek mutters, zipping his coat up before getting out of his car. Mark slides his gloves back onto his hands and together they first take his Christmas tree up to his apartment, and then Derek and Addison's tree up to theirs. Addison Shepherd greets them at the door with a grin that betrays her love for the holiday season. She's humming "Silent Night" as she kisses Derek on the cheek and beckons them inside.

They get the tree set up in its stand and Mark swears Addison skips as she gets the box of decorations out. He immediately makes his way towards the futon couch and stretches out on it, waiting for the inevitable berating from his best friend's wife. It comes once she turns around after hanging the first ornament with a giggle.

"Mark! You must help decorate the tree!"

"Fuck, no. I hate decorating trees," he mutters.

Addison Shepherd places her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow at him. "You can't mean that."

"Yes, I do. I prefer my trees like I take my ladies: naked," Mark smirks and sends a leer her way.

"He-ey, Mark, that's my wife!" Derek exclaims with a boyish grin.

Mark chuckles and closes his eyes, ignoring Addison's huff and contents himself to listening to their bickering over the tree decorating. He doesn't nearly find Addison so annoying anymore, and truth be told he finds her love for the holidays infectious - but he has a reputation to uphold. Once Addison and Derek are finished with their tree, his best friend walks over to prod him awake.

"Mark, beer?" Derek asks.

"Yes, please," Mark says while sitting up and cricking his neck. "Oh, Addison!"

She turns around from where she is scrutinising the tree and he briefly admires the way the fairy lights illuminate her beautiful red hair before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a present. "Catch."

She does, and unwraps it with curious eyes. Mark watches as she opens the jewellery box to reveal a pair of silver dangling earrings in the shape of turtle doves. She smiles softly and Derek walks back over towards them with a beer in both hands.

"So this is a thing now?" Addison asks, Mark nods.

"On the second day of Christmas my true love," he sends a wink Derek's way, "gave to me two turtle doves..."

Derek doesn't seem to notice the lyrics, he's too happy with the fact that his wife and best friend are now hugging and apparently ending their cold war.

**(iii) three french hens**

"Did you see Webber's face?" Addison shrieks with laughter as the trio flee the scene of their wheelchair race.

"I thought he was going to kill us!" Derek laughs, slapping Mark on the back before pushing open the door to the residents' locker room and dashing inside.

"He doesn't know if it was us," Mark says, dropping onto the bench and stretching out.

"I think he got a glimpse of Addie's hair as we ran away."

"Well, I don't care if he saw us racing, it was worth it. I kicked both of your asses," Addison grins as them.

"Don't gloat, Addison, it's not becoming," Mark teases.

"God, you sound like my mother," says Addison, rolling her eyes.

Derek chuckles and leans in to kiss his wife softly before walking into the men's bathroom. She drops onto the bench opposite Mark and arches her back against the wood, feeling her vertebra pop. She smiles contently, having finally found a sport in which she can beat her two boys.

"Oh, Addie, I have a present for you!" Mark says, pushing himself up like he's just remembering and going to his locker. He tosses a white t-shirt her way, yelling "catch!"

"Not even wrapped..." Addison mutters with a smile as she holds the t-shirt up to examine it. Mark sings softly as she examines the three French hens print. "Thanks... It's cute."

"You're welcome," he smirks.

"Wait... This will show off most of my stomach!" Addison exclaims, sitting up on the bench and looking around for Derek so she can show him another example of his best friend's crudeness.

"Yes," Mark says like it's no big deal, "And it will go see through if you get wet."

"You're a pig."

"Duly noted."

**(iv) four calling birds**

Mark smirks to himself as he makes sure the cage is securely tied to his motorbike before sliding his helmet on and driving away from the pet store towards Derek and Addison's brownstone. He knows this present is more than likely to be returned within a day, but it was too perfect an opportunity to pass up. He drives slower than usual, not wanting to kill the four animals he's playing chauffeur to. After leaving his bike in the basement as usual, he heads upstairs with his present in hand and his signature smirk on his face.

"What the hell is that?" is how he is greeted. Addison, practically falling in her bowl of yoghurt at the kitchen table, eyes the cage suspiciously.

"They are parrots. They are your present. You know: on the forth day of Christmas my true love gave to me four calling birds - "

"Yes, I fucking know. Please stop singing," the redhead mutters.

"Parrots? Cool," Derek says as he comes into the room from upstairs, towel drying his hair.

"I thought so, your wife seems to disagree," chuckles Mark.

"I hate birds," Addison mutters, eyeing Derek's bare chest as he stands near her in just his pyjama pants.

"No, today you hate the world," Mark observes. "Bad day?"

She nods and lazily takes a mouthful of her yoghurt. Behind her Derek mouths PMS and a burst of laughter leaves Mark's mouth. He receives a raised eyebrow from Addison and a suppressed grin from Derek and places the parrot cage on the floor against the wall.

"I'm returning those as soon as I can," Addison glares at the birds and in return they squawk at her.

"You have no heart."

"Watch yourself, that's my wife you're talking about," Derek jokingly warns Mark.

The plastic-surgeon-in-training walks around the bench and into their kitchen to search for something to eat, and returns to the table with three beers instead. He glances back at the parrots, smirking as one of them tries to out-squawk the others.

"You could teach them how to talk, that'd be brilliant!" he suggests.

"Arr me hearties!" Cries Derek.

"How about arr shut up?" Addison pinches the bridge of her nose and drops her spoon into her bowl, her Chanel bracelets jingling with the movement.

Mark, undeterred, takes a mouthful of his beer and continues. "I was thinking more like the lyrics to On The First Day Of Christmas."

Addison rolls her eyes at him, finally aware that he is deliberately provoking her in her bad mood. Derek simply hides a smile and hopes that she doesn't get pissed off to the point of not wanting to have sex later.

"You know," Addison muses, reaching for a beer, "if you were truly following the lyrics to that song you'd also be giving me three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree today."

"But do you know how fucking expensive that would be in the long run?" Mark chuckles.

"You've got money," Addison retorts.

"Ah, but I'm not spending my trust fund on presents you don't even appreciate, like these poor parrots," Mark smirks.

"I appreciate them at least. I've always wanted parrots," Derek, usually quiet during their verbal sparring matches, interrupts with a boyish grin, his wife simply pursing her lips together.

"Oh, speaking of expensive, are you guys still thinking of buying that place in the Hamptons?"

Addison perks up instantly at this, a sly grin spreading on her lips while a scowl forms on his best friend's. He watches curiously as they exchange a few glances, wondering what they mean. The married couple read each other so well, it's like they're speaking another language.

"Addison bought the place last week," Derek says. "Without telling me."

"Don't be like that, you liked the house!" Addison retorts, turning towards him.

"Liked being the operative word. Not loved."

"Well I loved it. Love it. And you will too once we redecorate!" Addison grins and shifts to sit in Derek's lap, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

Mark watches the exchange in amusement, silently drinking his beer as Derek groans in annoyance and only leads Addison back towards her bad mood. Once his drink is empty, and the couple across from him's volume is rising he excuses himself. He doesn't want to be caught in the crossfire, much preferring to find himself a hot girl to bang.

**(v) five golden rings**

"Oh my god, and then he ran from the room with his pants around his ankles!" Naomi shrieks with laughter as she recounts the embarrassing story of a fellow med student.

Addison clutches onto Savvy's arm as she remembers the event, the blonde laughing at the sheer hilarity of the tale. The trio are in the brownstone's lounge room having a few glasses of champagne to relax after long days at work. It's been a while since the three friends have been able to relax - both Addison and Savvy are working hard to become the best they can be in their jobs and Naomi has a toddler as well as her career to manage. An empty bottle of Veuve Clicquot rests on the coffee table, a fuller one by its side.

"What about the time when Chris - " Addison is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. She makes a mental note to finally do something about the way the door scrapes against the floor.

"It's me!" Comes Mark's voice through the hall, the sound of his footsteps soon after. The other two stifle their laughter, masking their slight inebriation and smile when the manwhore himself enters the room.

"Mark!" they chorus, and he greets them with a grin. The fire crackles in the background, its embers warmly lighting up the room and creating shadows on his face.

After embracing them he moves on to greet Addison. He kisses her cheek with a smile before surveying the room. A small Christmas tree, new, resides in the corner, adorned in tinsel, ornaments and lights that aren't currently turned on. A plate full of prawn remnants lies by the fire. There's a scattering of books and research on surgical techniques on the floor, indicating how hard both Shepherds are working.

"Where's Der?" Addison asks, though she knows the answer. He was meant to be home an hour ago and a part of her wants to slap him for it, while the other part doesn't care because she's having fun with her friends.

"Work," is the grim reply she receives. "There was a patient with a tumour - no, aneurysm... nails! Seizure! Car crash! Broken - "

"You have no idea, do you?" She smirks.

"No fuckin' clue. Work is a good guess, though," laughs Mark. "Just came over to give you your present before I head out. Rumour has it there's to be a jello fight at Billboard tonight."

"You're such a slut," Addison giggles as she accepts his present with another kiss on the cheek. She sits back down, sinking into their new couch with ease. She and Derek gave their futon to Mark just before Thanksgiving, unable to stand it any longer.

"Don't you know it?" He says, urging her to unwrap the present. He watches as she carefully undoes the bow, pulls off the wrapping paper and opens the gift box to reveal five gleaming golden rings. One is a thin ring which twists into a flower, another is a plain band engraved with swirls, another is a series of hearts, the next is like a rose stem with thorns, and her favourite is a ring of twisted strands of white, yellow and rose gold. She gasps, finding her eyes watering as she meets his eye.

Mark leans down and hums the tune in her ear, unable to sing around her girlfriends, as she throws her arms around him. She kisses each of his cheeks in thanks, smiling broadly at him as she slides the multi-coloured ring onto her right middle finger with a smile. It fits perfectly. He murmurs that he can get them in different sizes once she decides upon which finger she'll wear each ring. Naomi and Savvy sit in silence as they observe the scene in front of them. Mark notices this and hastily makes his goodbye, sending the girls a wink as he reminds them of the jello fight he's going to watch.

Addison turns back to the girls, picking up her champagne flute and taking a sip whilst she admires the ring on her finger. The other two exchange a glance before pouncing.

"Ooh, show us the rings!" Exclaims Savvy, leaning forward.

Naomi, not one to be so easily distracted by material objects, frowns questioningly, "Is this because of Mark's '12 days of Christmas' present giving theme?"

"Yes," Addison replies with a smile, admiring the rings with the blonde.

"A bit strange, isn't it? Those rings are gorgeous..." Naomi pauses and Addison looks up at her. "But are they an appropriate gift from someone who's not Derek - not your husband?"

"It's just jewellery, Nae... because of the song."

Savvy looks up from the rings as she hears Addison's defensive tone, her interest captured. The redhead has to drop her eyes under the scrutinising gazes of her friends and she takes an awkward sip of her champagne.

"It is a bit strange..." Savvy says, and Addison doesn't notice the pointed look she gives Naomi.

"Let's talk about something else, shall we? The winter line at YSL?"

"Ooh, yes!" Savvy immediately launches into a tale about the gorgeous sweater she bought the other day and Addison smirks into her glass at her successful distraction.

**(vi) six geese a-laying**

The sun shines brightly over the dew-covered vineyard. Freshly mown grass turns towards the rare heat in this freezing weather. Huddled together on a picnic rug are Addison and Derek, wrapped up in warm jackets and scarves and gloves. She's languidly reading, taking her time to savour each of Jane Austen's brilliant words. He's simply admiring the view, being a lover of the outdoors, and wondering where his best friend has run off to - probably to screw one of the Forbes-Montgomery staff. She turns a well-worn page to a new chapter and lifts her head towards her husband with a smile.

"What?" Derek asks after she stares at him for a few moments, unspeaking.

The corner of her mouth twitches before a grin forms on her lips. "I was just thinking how nice this is... We haven't really been able to spend any time together lately."

"Yes we have - "

"After work doesn't count," Addison cuts off his protest. "We're both so tired, and getting ready for bed doesn't count as quality time together."

Derek exhales slowly, watching his breath crystallise before dissolving into the landscape and disappearing from sight. His eyes light up and a smirk forms on his lips. Addison feels his arms wrap tightly around her waist as he lies down, pulling her on top of him.

"Surely sex counts as quality time... We have that almost every night," he wiggles his eyebrows, sliding his hands down to her butt.

"Well, it depends..." Addison trails off, teasingly. "Sometimes you're not very good."

"What?" exclaims Derek, eyes widening as he sees her tongue peeking out from between her teeth.

"Mmm," Addison nods, fingers sliding under his parker and sweater, teasing his stomach through his shirt, "It's okay though, honey, I won't tell anyone."

Derek grits his teeth as she giggles and he glares up at her. "That's not true. Take it back."

"But it is true, honey," she teases, leaning down so that their lips are almost touching. Inside she is grinning insanely, not having felt this happy and carefree in months.

"I hate you, wench," he growls before lifting his head off the rug and kissing her passionately. Their tongues fight for dominance while their hands caress and grope each other. He's pushing her jeans down over her ass and she's biting his lower lip with a coy smile when a shout interrupts them.

"Hey! Public sex! 911!" Mark shouts, coming down the hill, through the grapevines, towards them.

Addison feels the heat rise in her cheeks and she climbs off of Derek, pulling her jeans back up and biting on her lip. He fixes his jacket, making sure it is suitably hiding his crotch, before sitting up. His wife is scrutinising his best friend strolling towards them. Mark takes a mouthful of a bottle of something and holds a large plastic box with holes in it his other hand.

"Mark, what is that?" calls Addison as he gets closer and she folds her legs beneath her.

"This? This's a mighty fine whiskey is what this's," he slurs with a smile, stopping a few feet from them.

"No, what's that?" She points at the box.

A grin breaks out on Mark's face and he places the box on the picnic rug before dropping onto the ground next to it. He's covered in a layer of sheen - sweat or mist, the other two cant tell. He opens the roof of the box to reveal a well-insulated temporary home for six baby birds.

"Mark... What are they?" There's a warning tone to her voice.

"They are... Dum dum dah!" Mark glances between his best friend and his wife with a devilish smirk, "Your Christmas present, Addie! Six goslings."

"What?" she hisses, not wanting to scare the baby birds that are huddling together. "Close the lid! They'll freeze!"

Mark doesn't appear to be listening as he is slurping down some more whiskey from his near-empty bottle.

"Where did you get these?" questions Derek as he glances at his watch to see that it's only mid-afternoon.

"From the farm there..." Mark points behind him with a wobbly arm, losing his balance and topping onto his back.

"My neighbours?" Addison reaches forward to help him sit back up. "They're not selling any - " She stops abruptly and lets him fall to the ground again. "You stole these?"

"Mark!" Derek shouts, prising the alcohol from the other man's hand before he can drink any more.

The intoxicated one tries to change the subject by pushing himself up and slurring, "On the sixth day of Christmas my - "

"No! You will return these right now, Mark!" hisses Addison, frustrated with him for being so stupid and for interrupting a rare moment of bliss with her husband.

Instead of replying, Mark simply slumps to the rug again, his head resting in the damp grass.

**(vii) seven swans a-swimming**

Steam rises from the mug of coffee that rests on the balcony rail of their ski lodge. Addison lounges in a chair, clad in thermals and thick socks, snuggled under a blanket with a medical journal as she watches children and new skiers on the green run in the distance. There's an outdoor heater over her head, glowing red, and a constant supply of coffee from the espresso maker inside to keep her warm. After working a few night shifts that week and then flying out to Utah the day before, she's only had enough energy to ski a half-day. She doesn't mind because it's a clear day and the view of the snow-covered mountains is spectacular.

"Hey," comes the voice of her brother from behind her. She didn't hear him sliding the door open, too enthralled in the sight before her.

"Hey!" she smiles, turning in her chair to face him. "What are you doing back already?"

He gives her a look and she knows not to ask as it's likely to be something to do with Derek and Mark. Archer slides into the seat next to her, zipping up the warm jacket he's just put on. Addison places the medical journal on the freezing coffee table and reaches to take her mug from the rail.

"So I saw that snow globe Mark got you... Seven swans... Crystal... The man sure does go to an effort for your presents," Archer comments like he's talking about the weather.

"And I likewise. He's one of my closest friends," she replies, sipping her coffee.

"Your presents to him don't have that theme." His tone has taken on a more accusatory sound

"It's a nice song!" She retorts, glaring at him challengingly.

Archer tilts his head to the side, studying her. "In the song the presents are given by the 'true love.' It's inappropriate."

"Oh, since when have you given a rat's ass about appropriate, Archer?" exclaims Addison. "You wouldn't think twice about sleeping with a married woman!"

"So," his eyebrows rise, "You have slept together."

"No! We haven't!" Addison shrieks. "Mark and I are just friends. Good friends. We would never do that!"

Archer doesn't miss the wavering look she sends him before storming inside. He picks up her discarded journal, muttering. "Never say never."

**(viii) eight maids a-milking**

Mark's fingers slide over the sticky tape, sealing the pieces of wrapping paper together. There's a slight smile on his face, and it's not because of the shag he had on his lunch break with a particularly hot nurse, not the vulgarity of this present, but because of the look he knows will appear on Addison's face once she opens this. Initially her eyes will widen, eyebrows will shoot towards her hairline. Her mouth, lips maybe covered in a deep red lipstick, will form a perfect circle.

Then she'll purse those perfect lips, her eyes will turn to a glare and she'll spit something at him. He'll smirk and say something witty, he's compliment her and she'll laugh. And if she wasn't his best friend's wife he'd sweep her into his arms and kiss her until she turned blue.

The phone rings, tearing into his daydream and making him feel like a right bastard for thinking that about the redhead. He quickly ties the ribbon in a bow and goes to pick up his phone.

"Hello?"

"Mark... It's Addison..." her voice sounds shaky. "Can you come over?"

"Yeah... What's wrong?" He asks although he's sure of the answer.

"Derek left to go to work and we got in a fight... He acts like I'm not working as hard as him when I'm doing t-two fellowships at once."

He hears her sigh and replies instantly. "I'm on my way."

Within ten minutes he's parking his bike on the footpath and opening the door to the brownstone. He immediately goes to the couch, where he finds Addison drinking a glass of red wine as she always does after one of these fights with Derek. She's poured another glass for him and he silently slides onto the couch next to her.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hi," comes the whispered reply. She drops her head onto his shoulder and he notices that her hair is curled. He curses his best friend for his current preoccupation with work and not his gorgeous wife. They sit in silence, watching the crackling fire in the fireplace. Mark smiles as he remembers teaching her how to properly make a fire so it keeps going back in their intern year when they all went on a booze trip and stayed in a place with barely any heating over New Year's. He hears Addison sniffle slightly and he decides to distract her before the watery eyes becomes full-blown hysterics.

"On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me eight maids a milking," he sings softly and hands her his present.

Addison removes her head from his shoulder, takes it from him and opens it. As expected, her jaw drops and a gasp escapes her lips when she sees the 'eight maids' themed porny calendar.

"Mark! This is disgusting!" she exclaims.

"What, don't you like a bit of girl on girl action when you're looking at your plans for the day?" chuckles Mark.

"No!"

She slaps him with the calendar, giving him a glare that doesn't last long when she sees his smirk. He's resisting laughter, his lips pressed together, but his twinkling eyes give him away. Soon they're both in hysterics, gripping onto each other so they don't fall off the couch.

**(ix) nine ladies dancing**

Addison slumps against the nurses' station, signing off on charts with her head resting on her arm. She's just come out of an eight hour surgery that started before the sun rose, and now she's ready for a nap. Other doctors rush around her like they're trying to win Olympics sprints and it takes all of her willpower not to scream when an intern knocks into her. She's recently been made a neonatal attending and it wouldn't look good if she had an outburst. Instead, she warns the younger doctor to be careful and returns to charting. A few moments later she's knocked into the counter by Mark skidding to a halt.

"Jesus Christ! Mark!" She exclaims.

"Someone's not in a happy mood," he observes.

"No, I'm not. I'm tired and grumpy..." she looks up and down his cheerful self. "So if you've come to tell me about the hot sex you just had, I don't want to hear it."

"I'm not here to tell you about the hot sex I had two hours ago with that gorgeous brunette nurse from oncology, with the huge..." he trails off with a smirk when he sees her stare. A chuckle escapes his lips and he ducks his head to avoid her glare before looking up and speaking again. "I have two sets of good news for you. The first is I am taking you to The Nutcracker tonight!"

Addison smiles briefly before a frown replaces it. "Derek and I were supposed to be going out for dinner tonight..."

"Well, I convinced him to let me have you for the night. It's your present from me - nine ladies dancing! There'll be nine ladies dancing at the ballet, and I know it's your favourite," smiles Mark.

"So he's working, then?" she sighs dejectedly, however the corners of her mouth betray her excitement.

"Yeah..." he nods, but before he can let her mood darken, he smiles happily. "And um, my other good news is that I'm actually opening my own practice soon!"

Addison's eyes widen and her whole face lights up, reflecting her excitement for him as she turns towards him and throws her arms around his back. "Congratulations! You've wanted this for so long!" She squeals and Mark grins, hugging her tightly and almost lifting her off the ground. Once her sneakers (she hasn't yet put her heels back on post-surgery) touch back on the ground she grabs his arm and leads him down the hall, away from the charts and the prying nurses.

"Tell me more about this! Where's it going to be? How many staff? What's the plan? Also - "

"Addie, slow down," warns Mark with a smirk on his face, stopping them in the middle of a corridor. "I'll tell you more tonight at dinner, but right now I have a patient to go and see, sorry."

"Oh, okay... Wait, dinner?" she asks, releasing her hold on his arm.

"Yes. Tonight, before the ballet. Wear something pretty," he says suavely.

With a wink and a kiss on the cheek he walks off, and she is left wondering when he started acting more like her husband than her husband.

**(x) ten lords a-leaping**

"No, no, no, don't buy that one!" Addison shrieks. "I want that one!"

"If you think I'm goin' to let you buy all the dark green ones, then you are s-sorely mistaken, my friend!" The word friend is accented by a finger-jab towards her that very nearly takes her eye out.

"Mark!" shrieks Addison again, her voice getting louder and gigglier as she becomes more and more intoxicated.

They're sitting on the floor of his apartment, monopoly board spread out before them along with a bottle of Absolut Vodka that's fast becoming empty. The clock reads 3am, but neither care as they both have the day off. Addison glares at Mark until he takes his required mouthful of vodka that comes with buying a property. Her tongue slides out between her lips as she tries to sneakily pocket an extra $100 from the bank.

"Hey!" he slurs, grabbing hold of her wrist. "You're stealin'! You're a stealer!"

Addison giggles and tries to wrench her arm from his grip, but only manages to backwards. "Ssso what?"

"That's ill... Not... That's illallowed!" mumbles Mark as he pries the note from her hand and pulls her upwards.

"Illegal, you mean?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

"That's the word!" he cries, grinning. "Your move!"

She rolls the dice and they bounce across the board to the other side. In leaning across the board to try and see the numbers, she nearly knocks over all the cards and pieces. He has to grab her and pull her back, before leaning over himself to read them.

"A 2 and a 6!" he exclaims.

Addison moves her piece 8 places before landing on 'go directly to jail' and howling. "Noooo! You lied! That's a 3 and a 6! You lied!"

"I didn't! Your vision's jus' gone blurry from the vodka! You gotta go to jail!" he chuckles. "Here, I'll move your piece for you."

Pouting, Addison leans towards him and pushes him backwards, but he grabs her sides and she falls on top of him as his head bangs against the coffee table. He grunts in pain and she giggles an apology, her mouth inches from his. Her fingers grasp onto his sweater as he lets go of her to rub the back of his skull, their gazes locking. A moment later, with mutual movement, they're kissing. His lips move against hers slowly, almost sloppily from consumption, and after a few amazing seconds they part and she scrambles off him, looking guilty.

"I... Um..." she mumbles, not sure of what to say.

"Sorry," offers Mark, pushing himself up.

"Yeah..." she trails off, glancing at the clock to distract her from their sweet kiss. A moment later, she grins. "Oh! It's the 11th! You never gave me my present."

"Shit... I didn't..." Mark looks worried for a moment before jumping up and exclaiming, "I'm a genius!"

"Wh-wh..." Addison stares after Mark with a dropped jaw as he runs into his bedroom. A few minutes later he comes running out with a walking stick and a top hat - part of a previous Halloween costume if she remembers correctly - and leaps over the coffee table to dart back into his bedroom before she can blink. "What are you doing?" she exclaims, giggling.

"Ten... Lords... 'a leaping!" Mark shouts as he comes running, a scarf now draped around his neck as he leaps the coffee table again. Addison is in hysterics watching him run out of his room to leap the table, dressed slightly differently each time. She laughs so hard that she almost forgets the butterflies that took flight when their lips first touched.

Almost.

**(xi) eleven pipers piping**

The bottle of merlot lies motionless where it came to a halt against the trailer door. Addison is sprawled across the bed, staring at the wall and also unmoving. There's no snow outside - only serving to make their season more irrelevant. Her husband is more than four hours late with no phone call, and after what he said last week, she wouldn't be surprised if he was fucking Meredith Grey.

Christmas makes you want to be with the ones you love... Meredith wasn't a fling. I fell in love with her.

The words flow through her mind, spilling into the deepest recesses of her consciousness even when she thinks she's managed to block all thought. It hurts more than she thought possible, and a part of her - a little, niggling part of her knows that their marriage is unsalvageable. She curls her hand into a fist, nails digging into her palm so that she can feel something other than disgust, guilt, hurt. She tries not to let her mind wander, but it's hard. Her marriage is no longer anything more than a legal document.

Her blackberry vibrates on the nightstand, and with a tiny bit of hope left, she reaches for it. The number that flashes across the screen isn't her husband, but she finds that she's happier to receive this call.

"Hi," she speaks, throat croaking.

"Addison." His voice is like honey mixed with strawberries - it's warm and safe, friendly and concerned - it runs through her veins and makes her heart beat faster, stops her shivering - it's everything she needs rolled into three deep and loving syllables.

"Mark..." she whispers, her vocal cords betraying how badly she needs him right now, betraying how badly she misses him,

"I, um..." He sounds hesitant but longing. He so wants to ask her to spill everything to him so he can comfort her. "Your present is in the mail..."

"What is it?" asks Addison softly, needing one nice thing in her life right now. She's certain Derek will just give her a lump of coal, if anything, for Christmas,

"It's eleven CDs... From eleven different flautists..." His gentle voice disappears into the quiet night around her and she presses her eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping. A few moments later, he starts singing softly. "On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me eleven pipers piping..."

She can't hold back any longer and a sob rips its way from her throat as he whispers that he misses her. She clutches the phone to her ear, knowing that if he was here she would willingly choose him over her husband. She barely hears the catch in his throat over the sound of her own crying.

"I think... I th-think I'm... I'm... I'm not happy h-here," she manages, unable to voice her true feelings towards him.

A moment later she hears a sigh and imagines him raking his fingers along his forehead, through his hair. She imagines him wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close to him and holding her until she knows everything is truly okay.

"Addison..." He starts hesitantly, gaining courage as he speaks. "I am so sorry for fucking things up in New York... I got so... Fuck. I got scared by... By what I was feeling and ruined everything..." Her breath hitches and she almost crosses her fingers, hoping beyond hope that he's about to say what she's feeling. "But... Addie, I love you. I'm fucking in love with you. And I'll do anything - everything to fix this. To fix you - us. I want to be with you.

Addison sobs loudly and she covers her mouth with her left hand, her wedding ring pressing coolly against her lips, reminding her of how broken her life is.

"I love you, too," she gasps and receives a relieved sigh in response.

"I... I'm coming to Seattle," Mark decides. "I'm coming to get you."

"O-kay," she whispers, glancing around the empty trailer. She'd forced Doc outside, unable to stand the reminder. "Stay on the phone with me? I... I don't want to be alone."

"You'll never be alone again, Addie, I swear," promises Mark and she can hear the determination in his voice. It makes her heart fill with a happiness she hasn't felt in years.

**(xii) twelve drummers drumming**

Neither notice the loud sounds of the blizzard that howls outside their window, both are too preoccupied with admiring the other. Still in a brilliant mood from watching the show put on by the twelve drummers Mark hired for her present, Addison lies propped up on one elbow on their bed. Mark is modelling his outfit, the bell on the end of his Santa hat ringing as he turns.

"Does this skirt make my thighs look big?" he asks of the red leather miniskirt that he's wearing.

"Not at all. It makes your ass look good, though," admires Addison. He's wearing a strapless red tube top with white trimming around the top. He must have stuffed it or worn one of her strapless bras because he suddenly has breasts. She licks her lips when she sees the red lipstick as he turns around, and she feels herself becoming aroused.

"Why, Mr. Claus... Do you like what you see?" Mark asks, turning on the side and arching his back. He hasn't bothered with shoes as he knows he'd very likely break his ankle wearing high heels.

"Mm, very much so, Mrs. Claus," Addison giggles, stroking on her fake beard. "Ho, ho, ho!"

"And you look very handsome, honey," he speaks with a higher pitched voice and crawls onto the bed. His dick grows hard as he takes in the sight of his girlfriend dressed up like Santa Claus, fake stomach and all. He can no longer remember whether this was his idea or hers, but he loves it.

"Kiss me, ho!" Addison exclaims, smirking beneath her beard at her pun.

Mark chuckles and crawls up next to her, bare ass and erection exposed as he does. He leans down and kisses her fiercely, slipping his tongue into her mouth and trying to avoid the beard. Her hands slide up his stomach and over his fake breasts to cup his jaw. He runs his hands along the fatsuit's stomach and up to grope her real breasts with a smirk. She drags her hands through his wig and rolls on top of him with some struggle.

Her hands slid under his shirt to rake her fingers over his abdomen whilst his slide inside her pants to squeeze her ass. She moans softly and grinds against his dick, their tongues still sliding together repeatedly. Mark slowly sits up and she shifts to straddle his lap. He grins up at her and tugs on her beard before starting to undo her jacket. His cock is rock hard against her thigh, his eyes lusted over as he gazes upon his gorgeous Santa Claus.

"You are one fuckin' sexy Santa," he tells her.

"And you, Mrs. Claus, are equally sexy." Addison grins and eyes his chest, impressed with what he's done to give himself boobs. The boxers she's wearing are becoming wetter and wetter with every second, and she is getting more and more impatient to have him inside her. She tugs his tank top upwards and pulls it off him after shrugging off her jacket. He then removes the white shirt she wears underneath, and she undoes his tissue-paper stuffed strapless bra. She's still wearing a fat stomach and she reaches behind herself to undo it whilst he dips his head to encompass her left nipple. He swirls his tongue around the hardening nub, his hands caressing her other breast whilst she grinds down on his dick and removes the fake stomach.

"Not that I didn't love that, but I much prefer you natural - like this," he grins, removing his head from her cleavage.

"Well, soon I'll have a real belly like that," she laughs, looking down at her three-month baby bump.

"It's sexy. You're sexy," Mark smirks, his red lipstick smeared over both of their lips and her chest.

He flips them over, receiving a squeal from Addison as he does, and slides his hand into her pants to tease her clit. He's almost painfully aroused, his dick rubbing against his tight leather skirt with every movement. She gasps, bucking her hips to meet his fingers, and pulls his head down to meet her in another searing kiss. She flings his Santa hat and wig across the room before tearing off hers. His fingers probe her slippery pussy, thumb still drawing circles around her clit and making her gasp.

She's about to pull off her beard when Mark shakes his head. "Leave it, Mr. Claus."

"Fine. But only if you keep your skirt on, Mrs. Claus."

Addison grins impishly at him and slides her hands between them to undo her pants. He helps her slide them and her boxer shorts off, before positioning his cock at her entrance. After a slight nod from her, he easily pushes inside her with a groan. She's insanely lubricated and it feels incredible as he slides his length in and out of her core. He smiles down at her and lowers his head so that they can kiss sloppily. Soft moans leave her lips almost continually as he maintains a rapid pace. His balls slap against her slippery skin with every thrust, and he groans in pleasure.

"Fuck, Mr. Claus, you feel good," he hisses, sliding his hand down to toy with her sensitive clit.

"Ohhh," is all that Addison can manage. The pleasure builds inside her with every one of Mark's thrusts. He buries his cock to the hilt each time and eventually has to break their kiss to grit his teeth and resist the urge to cum. She drags her fingers through his hair, rocking her hips in time with his, her legs wrapped around his hips. His miniskirt is pushed up his abdomen, and her beard lies swept askew as he peppers her chest with kisses.

Their slick bodies press fervently against each other as he pounds into her dripping pussy, and she feels herself approaching her peak. The pleasure grows in her lower belly with every circle of her bundle of nerves, and he feels his balls tightening with every hard thrust. She holds on for a few minutes more before her pleasure takes over her her body. She moans loudly and digs her nails into his back as her orgasm moves through her. He doesn't slow in his movements, cumming moments later as her walls grip his cock tight and his hot seed shoots inside her.

"Fuck," he hisses, capturing her lips in a slow kiss and thrusting slowly inside her a few times before pulling out and rolling to the side. They grin lazily at each other, chests heaving, and unanimously agree that they make the hottest Mr. and Mrs. Claus ever.


End file.
